


Gifts

by writeasoph, xAbsinthexx



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Airports, Crushes, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gifts, Jack is really shy, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeasoph/pseuds/writeasoph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xAbsinthexx/pseuds/xAbsinthexx
Summary: Mark looked at him, confused, “I keep all your gifts.” he stated, feeling a twinge of hurt at Jack’s uncertainty.Jack tensed up, his usually pale face turning a bright red, “A-All of them?!” he asked, eyes blown wide."Every single one,” he said, before breaking out into a small chuckle, “Why? Do you throw away my gifts?”





	

“Jack, what’s this?” Mark asked, staring at the small green eyeball Jack had shoved into his arms. His plane was going to take off soon, taking him back to Ireland. Mark was waiting with him, hoping to give him a special sendoff.

Jack stared at his feet, shuffling in his seat slightly, “Uhm… It’s a Sam.” He muttered, the back of his neck heating up.

“What for? Can’t sell it yourself?” Mark chuckled, looking down at the small plush again. It looked smaller than the ones he usually sold, but it wasn’t a keychain. It was special. 

Jack snapped his head up, his eyes darting left and right. “N-No! That’s not why! I just wanted you to have it… S-So you won’t forget me when I’m gone.” He said, his ice blue eyes finally settling on Mark’s.

Mark melted, his heart swelling in his chest. He suddenly became protective of the small object he held in his arms, holding it close so it wouldn’t suddenly disappear from his grip. He smiled at the fluttery feeling filling his stomach. Slowly, he looked up, “Jack… I’m not going to forget you. The next convention is only 3 months away. You’ll see me then,” he said, though he couldn’t help the smile that forced it’s way onto his lips.

Sighing, Jack looked at his feet again, “I-I know… it’s just, I don’t know, I’m going to miss you” He whispered, biting at his lip. He gently ran a hand through his greying brown hair, seeming to be deep in thought. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Jackaboy,” Mark looked at Sam one final time, before mumbling a rushed, “thanks.”

Glancing at his watch, Jack sucked in a forced breath, returning to his feet. “I gotta go, Mark” he hurried, slinging his travel pack over one shoulder, taking a few quick steps. He seemed almost afraid now.

Mark hastily followed suit, chasing after the younger male, “Wait -” he placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug. Jack returned the hug, holding on to Mark as if his life depended on it. When Mark finally pulled away, Jack was crying. His electric blue eyes blotchy and red. 

“Hey, now, Jack, it’s okay,” Mark comforted, placing a good-natured hand on his back. 

“I-I know, God. I’m such a baby,” he sobbed, wiping his eyes with his blue hoodie, before pulling away from Mark again, “I really have to go now, Mark…” he said, and Mark nodded.

“I’ll see you soon, Jack!” Mark called, waving. Jack turned his head, and locked his gaze on Mark again, before running off into the crowd.  
Mark’s smile faltered, his grip on the eyeball tightening, Jack’s thousand-yard stare imprinted in his mind, confirming what he feared most.

He was completely and utterly fucked, and he knew it.

-x- _One year later…_

“Hey, Jack?” Mark asked, eyeing the empty can of silly string disapprovingly. They had been shooting a challenge video with Ethan and Tyler for Jack’s last day in LA, and they had run out of the punishment. Ethan was glaring at Mark, pulling lines of silly string out of his hair.

“Yeah?” Jack replied, glancing over in his direction. The nerf bow was still drawn, and he lowered it.

“Can you go grab some more silly string from my room, please? Pretty sure I have extra,” Mark said, throwing the empty can in the grass.

“Uh....” Jack hummed, unsure if he knew where Mark’s room was actually located. 

Mark facepalmed, Jack hadn’t been in his room before. “Right, shit. Will you go up with me, then?” He said, beginning his trek to the back door of his house. 

“Yeah, alright,” Jack said, following him into the large building.

A few moments later, both men were standing in Mark’s room, with Jack looking around in awe. “Wow, I can’t believe I’ve never been up here before,” he said, taking in the sights around him. 

Suddenly, his heart dropped. Positioned on the bed as if it was some sort of treasure, was the little Sam he’d given Mark about a year prior. “Y-You still have that?” he whispered, and Mark stood up from the box he was rummaging in.

“Huh? Yeah, why wouldn’t I? It’s a gift from you,” he glanced at the plushie, and smiled to himself. If only Jack knew. 

“I know, it’s just… I guess I didn’t realise it would mean that much to you?” Jack said, phrased more as a question than as a statement.

Mark looked at him, confused, “I keep all your gifts.” he stated, feeling a twinge of hurt at Jack’s uncertainty.

Jack tensed up, his usually pale face turning a bright red, “A-All of them?!” he asked, eyes blown wide.

Mark abandons his search, proceeding to kneel on the ground beside his bed, and after a fair bit of struggle, pulls out a small shoebox from beneath the mattress, opening it in front of the flustered man. Inside, was every gift he ever received from the now green-haired Irishman. Ranging from simple bracelets, to a customised Markiplier remote. 

“Every single one,” he said, before breaking out into a small chuckle, “Why? Do you throw away my gifts?” he asked, teasing, but curious. 

Jack raised his hands defensively, “N-No! It’s just,” he sighed, “I don’t know Mark, I’ve just never really felt so important to someone before,” He finishes, fidgeting with the bands on his arms.

Mark sits on the bed, gesturing for Jack to do the same, “Don’t feel that way, Jack. You’re an amazing person, you know that.” he says, absentmindedly placing a hand on the Irishman’s shoulder. He always jumped at the chance to get close to the man, to which Mark mentally slapped himself for, though he didn’t move his arm.

Jack nods, exhaling heavily.

The room goes silent for a little while.

“... Ireland is so lonely…” Jack finally whispers, slowly resting his body on the man beside him.

“I’m just a skype call away if you ever want to talk, Jack. I don’t care what time it is,” Mark breathes reassuringly, his heart breaking. He hated when Jack was upset.

Jack laughed, pulling away from Mark’s comforting arm, “Don’t be stupid, Mark. I’m not going to just bother you when you’re asleep, Look,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m honestly fine. It’s just getting to me a little since I’m going home tomorrow.” he sighed.

Mark suddenly jumps off off the bed, “Hold that thought,” he shouts, rummaging through his closet.

“Mark,” Jack laughs nervously, “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.”

Mark returns about a minute after his disappearance, with a few stray shirts strung across his body at weird angles. In his hands, he was holding a Tiny Box Tim. He waltzes back over to the bed, sitting down next to Jack, clothes and all. With vigor, he presses the toy into Jack’s arms, admiring his shocked face.

“But why?” Jack asks, baby blue eyes looking up at Mark with curiosity. Mark sucks in a breath, his heart rate increasing.  
“Don’t forget me when you’re in Ireland, okay?” He mutters, a light pink starting to rise in his cheeks.

Jack snorts, “I could never forget you, Mark, ya big doof,” he smiles down at the toy, grateful.

“I know, it’s just… hah…” 

“Hm?” 

Mark looks down at himself, and the state that he’s in, and starts to laugh. He glances at the closet door, wondering if he could actually make this work.

“What? What’s so funny?” Jack asks, giving Mark a side glance.

Mark stops, catching his breath, “Jaaaack!” he giggles, a weird sense of courage bubbling inside his gut, “I just came out of the closet!” Slowly, he turns away, laughing himself silly. His face was now a deep shade of red, that would have matched his previously fiery red hair, and his heart was racing a mile a minute at what he’d just done.

Despite trying to hold it back, Jack guffaws at the dork in front of him, oblivious to the true meaning, “You idiot,” he chuckles, “what are you, gay?” Jack’s laugh catches in his throat when Mark turns towards him with a look that resembled a kicked puppy.

An awkward silence fills the room as Mark’s laugh progressively gets quieter.

Mark’s gaze drifts to his feet, startled at Jack’s reaction. Slowly, he inches away from the man, grabbing Sam along the way. He continues staring at his feet as his laughter fades to null, choking on a sob instead.

“I… don’t think you… under... u-under…” Mark mutters under his breath, hand grasping at his headboard for support.

“Don’t under… wh-oh,” Jack says, eyes opening in realisation. He’d fucked up, badly. “Oh, Mark…” He scoots over to join the sobbing man, placing an arm on his back, “You know this doesn’t change anything, right? You’re still my best f-friend,” Jack whispers, stuttering slightly on his words. 

At this, Mark convulses in on himself.

“W-What if…” he breathes, “I want things to change?” He asks shyly, daring a glance over in Jack’s direction.

Jack freezes, “W-Wha?”  
Mark turns away again, rubbing at his eyes furiously, “N-Nevermind, it’s stupid,”

“Mark…”

“It’s stupid!” Mark snaps, instantly feeling the familiar wave of guilt wash over him, “S-Sorry…”

Jack cuts him off, forcefully pressing his lips into Mark’s. Mark let’s out a surprised squeal, but didn’t dare back away. It was a kiss of desperation, something they’ve both longed to do forever.

“Guys, why are you taking so long?” Ethan shouted, stepping into the room, “Oh,”

Mark broke away from the kiss, his tanned face resembling a red pepper. Jack was no better, a loud groan resonating from his throat, and his hands hiding his face.

“Hey Ethan,” Mark said casually, hoping that there wasn't any tear stains on his cheeks.

“Hey Mark,” Ethan said, glancing between the two.

Mark coughed, “I told you not to come into the house with the silly string on on your clothes,” he hissed at Ethan, although there was no bite behind his words.

“O-Oh! Right! I'm going now,” Ethan sputtered, possibly just looking for an excuse to bolt without being rude.

Mark laughed awkwardly, “let's get back to the video, then, hey?” he returned to his feet, offering a hand to help Jack up.

Jack took it, “Yeah,”

When they reached the bottom of the steps, Mark groaned, “We forgot the fucking silly string,”

Jack laughed, glad Mark was back to his old self.

-x-

“So this is goodbye, huh?” Jack mumbled, the floor suddenly looking very interesting.

“Yeah, but not forever. You’ll visit again soon. We still need to do that pole dancing video I promised the fans,” Mark assured, nudging Jack’s arm.

Jack laughed, “Yeah,” he said, begrudgingly glancing at his watch, “...I gotta go,”

Mark nodded, before pushing the same plushie from only a day prior into Jack’s arms. “Don't forget me when you’re in Ireland,” he whispered, so nobody around could hear.

Jack stared at the stuffed object, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth, “I thought you were joking,” he stated, running the toy between his fingers.

“When do I ever make jokes?” Mark retorted, and Jack shot him a look, as if to say, “You’re such a dumbass but I love you,”

Jack nipped at his lip, glancing at his watch nervously, “I really gotta go,” he said solemnly, rising to his feet.

“Wait,” Mark muttered, grabbing Jack’s hand, and Jack froze, turning towards him.

Slowly, Mark leaned in, placing a tender kiss on Jack’s soft lips, “I love you,” he breathed, before releasing Jack from his grip.

Jack smiled at the warmth that filled his body, and was suddenly no longer sad to go. He wouldn't be gone for long, Mark would make sure of that.

At long last, Mark watched his boyfriend leave his arms, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. 

Jack didn’t look back. He didn't need to.

He was completely and utterly fucked either way, and he was okay with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Soph and I have interesting conversations. She's great.


End file.
